


You Are Someone Else, I Am Still Right Here

by meiloslyther



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco, Phantom Planet, The Young Veins
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Drug Addiction, M/M, attempted suicide, dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-17
Updated: 2010-04-17
Packaged: 2017-11-19 10:19:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/572213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meiloslyther/pseuds/meiloslyther
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something not so happily ever after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Are Someone Else, I Am Still Right Here

**Author's Note:**

> This is totally for [](http://kyakat-13-666.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://kyakat-13-666.livejournal.com/)**kyakat_13_666** , who requested an angstfic A LONG TIME AGO. I didn't forget about you, bb. I just wanted to make it good for you. :D

I guess I can't really say exactly when it all started because everything just slowly came crashing down without any warning at all. Perhaps it was the picture floating around the internet of Ryan with a bunch of chicks hanging all over him and a few lines of coke on the table in front of them. We were all pretty mad at him until he said he didn't know it was there.

We believed him.

Maybe it was the day I found him passed out in the bathroom after a hard night of partying, dried vomit on his chin and the smell of weed on his clothes. He claimed to have shared a single bowl with a room full of people, and just got a little carried away with the beer. He got up and showered, and walked around the rest of the day like he was perfectly fine.

I believed him.

Maybe it was when I noticed him sleeping a lot more than usual, sniffling constantly like he had really bad allergies, his weight dropping noticeably. He became more irritable and complained of headaches and stomach pains. He said he was just coming down with something, he was just a little sick and he'd be fine by the end of the week.

I believed him.

I believed whatever he said because I loved him, and he loved me back.

***

Ryan was always warm and I loved to touch him when we would lay in bed, grasping at consciousness, not willing to go to sleep just yet.

"You're so warm," I muttered against his shoulder, throwing a leg over one of his and pressing myself as close as possible. I dragged my hand over his side, my fingers dipping between his jutting ribs, and I would have said something about it if I wasn't so sleepy.

He hummed in agreement, pressing a quick kiss to my lips. Wanting more, I pulled his face back to mine for a longer kiss, leisurely adding tongue after a moment.

In what seemed like only a few seconds, Ryan had me on my back, my knees pressed to my chest as he fucked into me with quick and slightly uneven thrusts. His arms were shaking already, and I knew neither of us would last very long.

"I love you, Brendon," he muttered hoarsely just as he pulled a desperate moan from my throat, and I striped both our stomachs with white. He followed not too long after and collapsed on my chest, sniffling.

"I love you too, Ry," I panted back, but he had already passed out, his softening cock still inside of me.

***

"You're wasting your time, Brendon."

I sighed into the receiver. It was hard enough to try to keep convincing myself that this was working out without Jon or Spencer intervening and telling me to just give up on Ryan. I didn't want to give up on him, I loved him.

"He just hasn't come around yet. He'll get better, I swear, Spence."

"He's too far gone to see reason. You're only hurting yourself."

I frowned. "We can't just give up on him, though."

"We can, and Jon and I already have."

"Some friends you guys are."

Ryan stumbled into the living room then, squinting at me through the afternoon sun filtering in through the windows. "Who are you talking to?" he barked, and I could sense the tension in his body from across the room.

"It's just Spence, Ry," I assured him calmly, pointing the receiver away from my mouth.

"Are you two talking about me?"

I chewed the inside of my lip. I hated lying to him, but I had to keep him from hitting me again. "No, of course not, baby."

Satisfied with my answer, he grunted in response and turned to go into the kitchen to make coffee, despite it being nearly two in the afternoon.

I sighed and put the receiver back to my mouth, letting my hand support my head. "You still there?"

"Yeah. Look, B, you have to lie to him just to keep him from beating you. Sometimes that doesn't even work. I've seen the bruises he can give you, and it's just not right." He was getting irritated with me. "He's delusional."

"He's just paranoid. And he hasn't hit me in a week now. He's improving, Spence."

"He's only getting worse and you know it better than anyone, you stubborn little shit."

I heard Ryan sniffling as the coffee maker gurgled.

"You can't fix him, Brendon," Spencer was saying, suddenly despondent. "He needs professional help, but we all know he won't go."

I could feel my heart break a little at that, the hitch in my breath from the pain. "I can at least try, can't I?"

Spencer didn't say anything for a moment and I thought he had hung up on me. "You can do whatever you want, Brendon. I just hope you finally come to your senses and realize that he's killing the both of you with all of this. I hope you wake up from your little fairy tale before it's too late." Then he did hang up on me.

I put down the phone and willed myself not to cry.

"So what were you and Spencer talking about?" Ryan sat himself down on the armchair across from me, a mug of steaming coffee in his trembling hands.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and rubbed at my stinging eyes. "Just music stuff. Wanted to talk about the songs for the new album." It wasn't a complete lie; that's what we had been talking about at first.

He nodded and took a sip from his mug. His foot was jiggling where he had one ankle crossed over his knee, and he sniffled again. The allergy attack that never dissipated.

"Do you have any plans for today?" I inquired, trying for conversation. We never talked anymore anyway.

"Party tonight at Alex's," he replied simply, taking another sip.

I didn't ask if I was invited; I knew I wasn't. I didn't ask if he wanted to stay home with me instead; I knew he didn't want to. I didn't ask who would be there because I already knew. And I certainly didn't ask what he'd be doing at the party.

I knew better.

"What about you?" he asked in return. He always kept tabs on me when he was out. Completely fucked up role reversal.

"I invited Jon and Spencer over for a movie."

He hummed in response. Sniffled. Sipped.

"I need to get dressed," I muttered, standing up from the couch and retreating to our bedroom. Stepping into the bathroom, I looked at myself in the mirror. There were dark circles under my eyes and my hair was sticking up in several different directions. My skin was pale from cooping myself up inside all the time, my ribs sticking out a little more than I would have liked. I found it ironic that there was a hickey on my neck and a bruise from the last time Ryan had hit me on my upper arm. Did he love me or hate me?

"Fuck," I sighed at my reflection, trying not to think about what Spencer had told me. I didn't want to believe him.

I turned the shower on then, letting it warm up before stepping in. Resting my forehead against the cool tile, I let my tears mix with the steaming water.

***

Jon and Spencer left by midnight and I was still awake by two waiting for Ryan to come back home. At three, I started to worry and by four I was ready to call Alex and ask him where the fuck my boyfriend was.

I had the phone in my hand when someone knocked on the door, and I briefly wondered who would be coming over at four in the morning before I answered it.

"I believe this is yours," Alex greeted me, an unconscious Ryan in his arms.

I let out a sigh of relief, stepping back to let Alex in. Even though the two were nearly the same size, Ryan looked so small in Alex's arms, like a child who had stayed up too late past his bedtime. Alex laid Ryan out on the couch, propping his head up with a throw pillow.

"You have no idea how glad I am to see you," I muttered, setting my phone down.

"Anytime, buddy," he replied, pushing hair off of Ryan's face before turning to me. "Want me to stick around? He's gonna have one hell of a hangover when he wakes up."

"It'd be appreciated, if you can."

He nodded, ruffling my hair as he walked past me into the kitchen. "I'll make myself at home, then."

"You know where everything is. I'm going to go to bed." I glanced over at Ryan, looking more peaceful in his alcohol-induced slumber than he ever did conscious. I sighed. "You know where an extra bed is if you want to sleep yourself."

Alex stepped up to me, a cup of water in hand. "Go sleep, Brendon," he whispered, lightly patting my cheek. "You look like you could use it."

I nodded and trudged off to the bedroom, barely getting my clothes off before I collapsed on the bed.

***

The next morning, I woke to the smell of coffee, wearily rolling out of bed and stumbling into the kitchen. Alex was standing in front of the stove, just starting a batch of bacon and eggs. The coffee pot was full save for whatever Alex had poured for himself, and I grabbed a mug.

"Good morning, sunshine. Sleep well?"

I shook my head, sitting at the kitchen table with my cup of coffee.

"You want to talk about it?"

I took a sip of my coffee and set the mug back down. "Thanks, but no thanks." Alex was like a brother to me now, but the things in my nightmares were just not something I wanted to talk about.

He nodded in affirmation and was silent as the bacon sizzled and the stove clicked steadily. I could hear Ryan snoring softly from the couch in the living room and I suddenly remembered why Alex was there.

"Is he okay?" I asked quietly as Alex started piling the bacon on a plate, stirring the eggs with his other hand.

Alex sighed. "He woke up about an hour ago to stumble into the bathroom to puke. I gave him a glass of water and he passed out again." He came over to me with a plate of bacon and eggs. "Other than that, he's fine. Breakfast?"

I gave him a weak smile and took the plate, setting it in front of myself. He went back to fix his own plate before sitting at the table with me.

"A better question would be are you okay," he muttered, picking up his fork.

I frowned. "Why's that?"

"Because your boyfriend is a coke addict, Brendon," Alex explained softly with the air of someone talking to a young child, a sympathetic look in his eyes. "He smokes grass and drinks too much. He's abusive and paranoid. I'm surprised you haven't left him. Or gone insane."

"I'd never leave Ryan," I declared, looking Alex right in the eye.

Alex nodded. "You aren't afraid of him leaving you?"

I froze. I hadn't thought of that. "What do you know?"

"I know he's unstable."

I sighed, going back to my food. "Ryan wouldn't leave me. Ryan loves me."

"I never said he'd leave you of his own volition."

I could practically feel my heart stop and shatter into a billion pieces, the tiny little slivers cutting holes in my lungs and making it hard to breathe properly. I set my fork down as slowly and calmly as I could and stood, unable to control the shaking. "Thanks for breakfast, Alex," I muttered before trudging to the bathroom.

Standing there in front of the sink, I broke down, the reality of the situation hitting me full force in the stomach. Ryan could die from all of this. Even if Ryan loved me with all of his heart, there was no possible way for him to keep himself from leaving me that way. I didn't want him to die, I wanted him to get better.

Alex found me barely five minutes later knelt in front of the toilet sobbing uncontrollably and dry heaving. He flushed the toilet and sat against the wall, pulling me to his chest and petting my hair.

"God, I'm sorry, Brendon," Alex was muttering against the top of my head, and I could feel his heart pounding in fear against my shoulder. "I'm so, so fucking sorry."

We sat there for a long while, Alex muttering apologies and reassurances into my hair as I slowly stopped shaking, the tears now falling silently. I had almost stopped crying when there were footsteps leading towards the bathroom.

"What's going on here?"

I stood quickly. "Ryan, you're awake." I sniffled and wiped my face. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I asked you what the fuck is going on here," he yelled, grabbing me by the throat and pressing me against the wall.

"Ryan, please, it's nothing, honest. I was upset and Alex was just comforting me and, and-"

Ryan's hand tightened around my neck, cutting off the rest of my sentence along with my breath. "I swear to fucking god, Brendon-"

"Ryan, let him go!"

Time felt like it stood still as Ryan stared at me, his fingers tight around my throat, my breaths coming in wheezing gasps. My heart felt like a jackhammer, only in slow motion, like in a bad horror movie.

Then Ryan's hand was gone and the sudden rush of oxygen to my lungs made my knees give out. I sunk to the floor, my vision black and faded around the edges. When I could see properly again, Ryan was on his back on the floor in front of me with Alex straddling him, a hand gripping Ryan's collar and his other in a fist, poised to strike.

"Get off of me, Greenwald," Ryan growled, but he couldn't do much else; I realized Alex was kneeling on his wrists, effectively pinning him.

"Don't think I won't hesitate to kill you, you sick bastard."

"If you wanted to kill me, you would have already done it."

There was the sickening sound of bone hitting flesh, and Ryan's skull bounced off of the linoleum like some kind of macabre basketball.

"Fuck you," Ryan spat, trying to buck Alex off of him.

"You lay another hand on Brendon, Ross, and you won't be able to fuck anything."

"Get off of me!"

Alex struck again, catching Ryan right in the nose.

"Mother fucker!"

Alex raised his fist again, preparing to go all out on my boyfriend, but I finally mustered up the courage to lunge at him, pulling him away. He stumbled backwards as he tried to stand and I immediately went to Ryan's side. His nose was beginning to bleed and he was definitely going to have a black eye in a few hours.

"God, Ryan, are you okay?"

"Asshole tried to break my fucking nose!" Ryan screamed, attempting to get up to go after Alex, but I held him back. I could hear Alex huffing angrily behind me and all I could think was, _How did I get into this mess?_

"Please, no more fighting," I croaked, still holding onto Ryan as I turned my head to look at Alex.

Alex was glaring at Ryan with almost enough intensity to make Ryan spontaneously burst into flame. "Fine, have it your way," Alex agreed, his voice scarily calm. "But when this, this... _monster_ kills you, Brendon, you'll wish you had let me knock some sense into him."

"Get out of my house," Ryan ordered in a deadly hiss, his skin still electric with adrenaline.

Alex snorted disbelievingly and shook his head, backing out of the bathroom and slamming the front door behind him as he left.

I turned back to Ryan and did my best to clean him up; his left eye was beginning to swell nicely and there was a fair sized knot on the back of his head. Luckily, his nose wasn't broken and I was able to stop the bleeding after a while.

"I love you," he muttered later after I had helped him to our bedroom and into bed.

I smiled -- truly smiled -- for the first time that whole day and took his hand in mine, gently kissing his cheek. "I love you too."

***

I must have dozed off at some point because I woke up some hours later lying on my stomach, my hard cock trapped beneath me, with Ryan already inside of me, moving in slow, deep thrusts. I moaned shamelessly as he pushed right into my prostate, already close to coming and I hadn't even opened my eyes yet.

"You're awake," Ran muttered against the back of my neck, biting down on my shoulder.

I groaned again, bucking against him to try to get some much needed friction on my cock.

"I don't think so," Ryan whispered, holding my hips down. "I want you to come just from having my cock in your ass."

I whimpered frustratedly, digging my nails into the sheets as he began to move faster, hitting my spot with each thrust. Ryan's skin was blazing hot against mine, his breathing ragged, and I realized he must have started fucking me long before I was conscious. How I could sleep through it, I wasn't exactly sure.

"You're so relaxed when you're asleep," he continued in my ear, his fingers gripping bruises on my waist. "So pliant, so easy to open you up with my cock."

I moaned his name; I wasn't going to last long with him talking like that.

"How amazing would it have been if you didn't even wake up until you came?"

"Ryan... oh god..."

He trailed his tongue up my neck to my ear, biting the cartilage. "If I tried to fuck your mouth while you were asleep, would you wake up choking on my cock?"

I cried out loudly as I came, and for some reason the thought came to mind that I was glad we weren't on tour so that I could make whatever noises I wanted. Ryan could fuck me as hard as he wanted, could make the bed bang against the wall if he wanted to, and I could moan and scream as I pleased without having Spencer or Jon or Zack telling us to keep it down.

I could feel Ryan's cock pulsing inside of me as he came shortly after, releasing his death grip on my waist. He sprawled across my back for a moment, breathing hard against my shoulder, before rolling off to the side. I picked myself up and blindly cleaned off the best I could with the edge of the sheets; they needed to be washed anyway.

"Well, that was unexpected," I sighed, curling up next to Ryan.

"I couldn't help myself; you're so beautiful when you're asleep," he whispered, pulling me close and tracing the lightly blooming bruises on my hip with one finger. "And you make the most gorgeous noises when you're unconscious. I couldn't keep my hands off of you."

I finally opened my eyes to see that it was dark in the room, and all I could really see was the faint glow from Ryan's ivory skin and the glitter in his dark eyes.

"I love you, Brendon," he muttered with such intensity that I felt my heart skip.

"I love you too, Ryan."

Ryan sniffled and held me close, both of us falling back to sleep easily.

***

I woke up the next morning to the sun coming in through the window. The bed next to me was empty and cold; Ryan must have gotten up long before I had.

I was barely in a pair of boxers when there was a knock at the front door, sharp and impatient. I went to the door curiously, vaguely noting the time was a little after ten in the morning.

"Where is he?" Spencer nearly yelled in my face when I pulled the door open. Jon was standing just behind him, looking somewhere between pissed off and worried.

"I-I'm not sure..."

Spencer pushed me out of the way and stormed into the house, Jon following him like a loyal puppy.

"What's going on?" I called after them, following them down the hallway to the bathroom. The door was closed; I hadn't noticed it earlier.

Spencer attempted to open the bathroom door, but it was locked. He jiggled the handle in frustration. "Ross! Open this door, asshole. Now!"

No answer.

"Fucker, I know you're in here; you called me not even five minutes ago to tell me exactly where you were and how fucked up on coke you were, you little shithead."

Silence.

"Fuck this," Spencer muttered, stepping back before placing a sharp kick to the door, just under the handle. Wood splintered and cracked, but he had to do it three more times before he could actually open the door. "You asked for it, you little... Oh god, Ryan..."

Spencer disappeared into the bathroom, Jon close behind. Dreading the worst, I cautiously stepped into the doorway. Spencer was pulling Ryan out of the overfilled tub by his shirt, body limp, his hair soaked and sticking to his face. Ryan's phone was on the floor next to the tub, one of his arms slung over the edge of the porcelain. If I flicked my eyes over to the counter, there was a broken mirror and a razor-blade, small remnants of coke on both.

"...Ryan, come on, breathe..."

If I had had anything in my stomach, I would have puked. My worst nightmare of them all, it was becoming real. Everything I had denied in my mind was true, so painfully true, and I couldn't handle it.

"...Don't do this, Ryan... You little asshole..."

I could hear the tears in Spencer's voice, even though I couldn't see them. I couldn't see anything, the world was spinning, and I had to hold onto the doorframe to keep myself upright.

"...Please, god..."

Suddenly, there was a small splash of water, a cough, a gasp.

I didn't hear anything else.

***

"...involved in this... No, don't tell him... He should be fine in a- Wait, I think he's coming to."

I opened my eyes to find Jon's relieved face, the hand that wasn't holding his phone moving up to pet my hair.

"You alright there?"

I sat up carefully. Someone, most likely Jon, had moved me to the bed. "I think so." I felt the back of my head; there was a small bump that hurt a little, but nothing I couldn't survive through. "Where's Ryan and Spencer?"

"At the hospital." He moved the speaker on the phone back to his mouth. "Yeah, he's fine... Yeah... Really? When do you think... Oh... I don't know, Spence, maybe... Not right now at least..."

I was giving Jon my best confused face, but he wasn't giving any hints as to what was going on. He had said that they were at the hospital...

I suddenly remembered what had happened before I passed out.

 

_"...Ryan, come on, breathe..."_

_"...Don't do this, Ryan... You little asshole..."_

_"...Please, god..."_

 

My heart hurt. "God, Jon, is Ryan okay?"

Jon nodded at me. How anticlimactic. "...Well, you know him best... Yeah, here's Brendon."

I took the phone from Jon's outstretched hand and put it to my ear. "Spencer?"

"Hey, B, good to hear you're alright. I guess that fall you took looked worse than it was. But hey, the doctor came in a minute ago to tell me that Ryan's okay, he's coming around slowly, and you two can come up here -- _I'm sorry? ...Oh, okay_ \-- Hey, the doc's letting me in right now, says Ryan's awake. Do you want to talk to him?"

I gazed at Jon questioningly, biting my lip. "Y-yeah."

There was some muttering in the background before Spencer came back. "Okay, here's Ryan."

Silence. Then, "Hello?"

My heart skipped; he was okay.

"Ryan, god, what were you...?" I paused, suddenly remembering the mirror, the razor-blade, the lies, the abuse. The bruises, the hurt, and _god_ , everything he put me through. "What were you thinking, you little shit?"

Jon raised his eyebrows at me.

"Brendon, I-"

"No, you listen to me. After all the shit you make me deal with day in and day out, you think you can just go off and try to kill yourself? How is that even fair to me? To Spencer, to Jon, to your friends, Ryan? Do you even care about anyone but yourself? Do you say that you love me every night just to keep me around to help you play your stupid little game?"

Jon's mouth was hanging open by now.

"Brendon, don't-"

"No, I really want to know. What do you have to say for yourself?"

There was silence for a moment. "Bren... I'm not a good enough liar to convince you that I don't love you."

I couldn't breathe, my chest tightening painfully. I held out the phone for Jon and curled up in a ball on my side, wrapping my arms around myself. Jon got up and walked out of the room swiftly but calmly, muttering into the phone, and I let the tears flow when I couldn't hear his voice anymore.


End file.
